


Stay

by PyroKlepto



Category: Psych
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 16:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6431737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyroKlepto/pseuds/PyroKlepto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Juliet was kidnapped by a notorious killer. Lassiter blames himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during/slightly after Season 4 Episode 16 of _Psych_ , "Mr. Yin Presents...". So expect spoilers for that episode. I felt compelled to write something immediately after watching that episode for the first time, and so here it is. Please do leave feedback if you enjoyed!

He should have shot the window of the car out sooner.

That was all Lassiter could think, sitting at the desk in the chief’s office, staring at his hands. He should have shot the window of that damn car out sooner. If he had, he might have been able to reach Juliet in time. Now she was in danger, and it was his fault.

He wanted to blame Gus for not stopping her, but he knew he couldn’t. Gus was as distraught as he was; Gus had overcome his many fears, grabbed Juliet’s gun, and ran into the tunnels after her. Gus had searched for a long time in the dark, calling her name. 

Gus wasn’t to blame. If anyone was to blame, Lassiter knew it was himself. 

He was the head detective. Next to the chief, he had been the one in charge. He had been the one who should have kept on top of things. Instead, he had ended up locked in a car, and spent too long trying to pry the door open or block out the noise instead of just breaking the window and running to find his partner.

Now she might be dead by the end of the night. And it would be his fault. No one else’s.

Lassiter suppressed a shudder, lowering his head a little more. He could hear Spencer pacing, Gus’ tremulous breathing, voices talking quietly elsewhere in the police department…

And he couldn’t help but think about how, usually, in cases like this,, Juliet would be walking from person to person, placing gentle hands on shoulders and murmuring soft words of reassurance.

It was like the sun had been taken from the sky of the police department; it was colder and darker without her around. He had never realised just how bright her presence was, even when she did nothing but sit at her desk doing work, until… 

Well, until the brightness was gone.

It was nearly 1am, and Spencer had a girlfriend to pick up. The chief couldn’t let him go, so McNab had been sent out. Tension crackled in the air of the office, and no one could bear to speak. 

And then Spencer’s phone rang. Lassiter glanced up from his hands, a spark of hope in his chest.

“It’s Abigail.”

Lassiter’s chest rose and fell in a nearly silent sigh, but he didn’t look back down. As a detective, he knew that the safety of civilians was just as important. Even if right now, he couldn’t tear his mind away from the fact that the safety of his partner - his friend - was being threatened.

He noticed Spencer’s face darken, and then the self-proclaimed psychic tapped a button on his phone, turning the speaker on.

“Hello, Shawn. I have good news and bad news. The good news is that our femme fatale is still very much alive. The bad news, for you anyway, is that I have now met the girl next door. I understand your predicament. They’re both so you. But we can’t have our cake and eat it too. So I’m doing you a favor here by forcing you to choose.”

The longer the voice spoke, the tighter Lassiter’s clenched fists became, until his nails dug into his palms.

“Choose?” Shawn spoke quietly, his voice as cold as he could make it.

“Yes, Shawn. Who do you care about more? Because you can’t save them both.”

The call ended. The office fell into total silence. 

Lassiter caught a glimpse of tears in Shawn’s eyes and turned away. He kept his back to the other people in the room so they wouldn’t see the emotions flickering across his face.

 

“This is it! This is it!” 

Lassiter heard Shawn’s shout echoing across the police department and ran to the source. This was the call he had been waiting for all night.

Shawn slammed his phone down on a desk. “What’s the clue? What’s the clue?” he asked, his voice rising with each word until he was nearly spitting them out. Lassiter, Henry, Gus, and Vick all gathered around, listening intently. 

Then Juliet could be heard over the speaker, her breath catching in her throat and her voice trembling. “Shawn, I’ll drop by half-past four. My hands are on my face. Please come quick, or this could be messy.”

And then she spoke in a rush, frantic words rising in pitch.”Shawn, you can still save Abigai–”

There was a faint clicking noise and the call ended. 

Lassiter’s hands clenched and unclenched into fists, nails pressing into the crescents in his palms where he had dug his fingernails in before, sending tiny stabs of pain through his wrist. 

A beat of silence fell, and then suddenly everyone began trying to work through each phrase of the message. 

“Hands on my face… it’s a clock,” Gus said, his expression one of complete concentration. 

Henry was still staring at the phone. “Half past four, this could get messy,” he said slowly.

“I’ll drop by,” Vick added, continuing the repetition of the message.

“She’s Kim Novak in Vertigo,” Lassiter interjected, realisation dawning even as dread crept into his chest cavity. 

No one responded, and Vick spoke again. “I’ll…” Then her eyes widened slightly as everything clicked into place. “ … _drop by_.” 

“Instead of a bell tower, it’s a…” Shawn put in, motioning with his hand as he tried to piece everything together.

“It’s a clock tower. It’s the clock tower!” Gus exclaimed.

Lassiter was striding across the office before Gus even finished speaking, grabbing his suit jacket from where he had left it draped over an armchair and moving toward the door, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

He exited the office while simultaneously slipping into his jacket, moving with purpose and shoving his fear back. Dozens of receptionists, profilers, policemen, and other members of the police department stood silently outside, watching.

“Detective, wait!” Vick commanded. 

Lassiter slowed to a stop, drawing in a breath to keep from losing his composure and turned to face her, even as she continued speaking. 

“A civilian has been taken as well. She must be given priority. If we have the slightest clue–”

And Lassiter did something he rarely did; he interrupted her in order to defy her. “You’ve got other units, chief. I’ll be going to get my partner now.”

He turned again and strode past the crowd outside.

“Detective!” Vick called, her voice stern. 

Lassiter ignored her and kept walking. _Hang on, O’Hara. I’m coming._

 

Stoplights and road signs were ignored completely; Lassiter took whatever chances he had to get to the clock tower as soon as possible. Just as he cruised up in front of it and threw his door open, he saw a squad car approach.

He ignored it; whoever it was, he had no time to explain or get information. His partner was in danger. It was nearly 4:30. He had to reach her. 

He had to.

But as he ran inside the tower, he heard pounding footsteps and looked over his shoulder to see the chief and… Gus, shockingly enough. Though it really wasn’t that shocking; he cared deeply for Juliet, that much was certain.

He didn’t speak and neither did they, running over to the elevator. He slammed a hand against the button multiple times - only to notice the _Out Of Order_ sign tacked onto it. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut. “Ah, you’ve gotta be _kidding me_!” 

“Okay, take the stairs,” Vick ordered. “I’ll man the point and set up a perimeter.”

Lassiter ran for the staircase. Vick shoved Gus in the shoulder, pushing him in the same direction. “Go!”

He had never bolted up stairs so quickly in his life. He took the steps two at a time whenever he could, gripping the railing and using it to propel himself upward. He didn’t know how many flights of stairs there were to climb, but that didn’t matter. 

He reached a door and wrenched it open, all but throwing himself at it, refusing to slow down to open it properly. The yellow stripes on the edge of each step began to make him dizzy, and his lungs and muscles were burning; but he didn’t stop running. His and Gus’ footsteps and ragged breathing echoed hollowly, bouncing off the metallic walls and steps.

_We’re on our way, O’Hara. Hang on. Please hang on._

After what felt like an eternity, Lassiter and Gus ascended concrete stairs into the area of the tower behind the clock face. It glowed like a huge white moon, the black hands stretching across it as whirrs and clicks and creaks resounded through the air.

Lassiter drew his gun, scanning the entire area for danger. He almost wished Mr. Yin would show his face - to put a bullet (or two, or five) into the man who had dared kidnap O’Hara would be oh so satisfying.

But no. He and Gus were alone except for the sounds of the clock. Lassiter spotted the door that led out onto the tower and ran for it, followed closely by Gus.

And there, lashed to a chair with rope and perched precariously tilted forward, was Juliet. A cable was attached to the back of the chair and led all the way to the clock. When the short hand hit the cable, it would snap… and send Juliet plummeting several stories to the ground.

“O’Hara!” Lassiter rushed forward. “Oh my god.” He examined the ropes around her and the chair. “All right, don’t worry. We’re gonna get you out of this,” he said, mind racing. He heard Gus gasp and turned briefly. The other man held his hand in a way that indicated it hurt; he was standing by the cable.

“It’s electrified, I can’t touch it,” Gus said, frantic. 

Just as he said that, the clock’s noises grew louder - indicating it was about to sound off. 

Meaning 4:30 was seconds away. Half past four.

For a moment, both Lassiter and Gus froze in fear. And then everything hit them at once and they bolted for the clock face. Gus seized the hand and dug his heels into the ground, holding it back and keeping it from disconnecting the cable. “You gotta do something quick! I can’t hold it for long!” Gus shouted, straining to keep the hand back.

Lassiter turned to look at Juliet, heart nearly pounding out of his chest. If she fell… 

He ran back inside the tower, sending a prayer to God that Gus could hold the hand back long enough. He could hear Gus yelling from the strain, and see his shadow through the clock face, foot braced against an edge of the wall. 

Tearing his gaze away from that, Lassiter looked to the gears that worked the clock, holding his gun tightly. Was there any point of the clockwork he could shoot to make it stop entirely? There had to be a point somewhere that would shut it down if it were shot… 

But even as he scanned the inner workings, he could hear Gus’ yelling becoming more shrill, and see his shadow shaking uncontrollably. He didn’t _have_ time to find the weak point in the clockwork.

So Lassiter did the only other thing he could do. He thrust his hand forward and jammed the muzzle of his gun between the gears. There was a screeching noise, and a shower of white sparks hit his face, stinging him. He didn’t let go of the gun until the whirring of the clock stopped and the glow that lit up the clock face darkened. Everything fell silent.

“Did it work?” he shouted, running back outside. _Please, God, let it have worked._

Gus said nothing, staring at him with wide eyes; but he no longer held onto the clock hand, and the cable was still in place, and Juliet was still sitting in the chair on the edge of the tower. She hadn’t been sent falling to the ground. 

It had worked.

They both ran forward, and Lassiter placed one hand on Juliet’s shoulder, reaching out to pull the gag from her mouth. “We’ve got you,” he said, words hushed and slightly breathless; he couldn’t speak much louder without his voice breaking. “We’ve got you.” He ran his hand down her arm, trying to give comfort in what small ways he knew how. 

A few minutes later, more policemen were showing up, along with a medic. Juliet was very carefully brought off the edge of the tower and back to safety. Lassiter hovered nearby at all times, refusing to move too far away. Gus left to call Shawn. 

Despite how preoccupied he was with watching over Juliet, Lassiter genuinely hoped the Spencers had managed to rescue Abigail in time.

 

The sun began to rise only an hour later, and Lassiter still stood at the top of the clocktower. Police were treating it as a crime scene, rightfully so, and gathering information. He had recounted his version of what had happened multiple times and was again repeating it - this time to Vick. 

Gus had relayed the news he got from Shawn on the phone to the police, letting them know that Abigail had been rescued, and then - after spending a few moments sitting silently with Juliet, trying to comfort her with a few touches to her shoulder and his presence - returned home.

Vick was quiet for a long moment after Lassiter finished recounting the story of the night. Then she nodded. “You did well, Detective.”

“Guster did most of it,” Lassiter replied, almost automatically. Normally he’d take most of the credit without thinking twice, but this time… he felt it would be wrong. 

“You both did well,” Vick said, the ghost of a smile on her face. 

Lassiter nodded slightly, glancing over his shoulder at Juliet. She was standing a few yards away, and a policeman was trying to talk to her. She didn’t seem at all happy. Lassiter tensed, his immediate reaction to go and help.

“Go on.”

Lassiter glanced back at Vick, a question in his eyes.

She nodded. “Go on. She’s going to need someone she trusts with her for at least a little while. I don’t know anyone she trusts more than you, Detective. We’re done here anyway.”

“Thank you.” Lassiter turned, approaching Juliet, who was still trying to tell the policeman in front of her to go away.

Lassiter came up behind the man and seized him by the back of his jacket, gripping one arm and his shoulder in order to forcibly push him away. “Back off.”

The man made a quick exit, mumbling an apology. Lassiter looked at Juliet and reached out. She took several steps back. “Stop it, I’m perfectly fine! Just leave me alone.” 

“I know. I know.” But he didn’t move back, touching her arm, even as she gestured in frustration and talked over him, her voice trembling. She was near tears and trying desperately not to show it. “Look, it’s alright, you’re safe now. You’re safe now. You’re allowed to be upset.”

Before he even finished speaking, Juliet had made a choked sound, unable to hold back the sobs anymore. He reached out with his other hand, placing it on her other hand as she took hold of his arms and sank forward, shaking as she started to cry.

She seemed to be trying to avoid getting too close to him. So Lassiter ran his hand up her arm to her back and gently drew her closer until she collapsed against his chest. He rested his chin atop her head, blinking rapidly and staring off at the horizon in order to keep back the tears that stung his own eyes. “Have yourself a cry,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around his friend. as she sobbed. “Shhh…” 

Juliet clung to him like a lifeline, and he held her close, stroking her back with his thumb. “It’s okay…” 

He lost track of how long he stood there, holding her and letting her cry against his shoulder. All he knew was that if he had to, he would stay there on the clocktower forever. Before long, Vick had ushered all the policemen away, leaving the two detectives alone. 

Eventually, Juliet had quieted and gone still save for the occasional tremor. Lassiter stood there with her in the sun for a little while longer before deciding it might be best to leave the clocktower - it had been a crime scene, after all - and take her elsewhere. “Come on. Let’s get you home,” he said gently, arm still around her shoulder.

She didn’t say anything, nodding once and letting him help her to her feet and down the stairs of the watchtower to his car. 

He opened the passenger door for Juliet and then went around to the driver’s seat, climbing in and shutting the door. Before starting the car, he flipped through his phone until he located a special playlist he and Juliet had put together one night on a boring stakeout. 

They both had very different tastes in music; he enjoyed British rock and movie soundtracks, while she had a tendency to like a little bit of everything, though especially 90s pop and traditional Irish music.

So on the stakeout, they had put together a playlist that included tracks they both liked, and - to be fair - equal amounts of music that each of them liked personally. Whenever they were in the car together for longer than a few minutes, or driving around without a case, they played it.

Lassiter thought that now would be a very good time to play it.

The first song to play was a Rolling Stones song - one of his choices - and he pushed the skip button until a Sinead O’Connor song that Juliet had picked out to put on the playlist showed up. Then he started the car and drove down the street in the direction of Juliet’s house.

Every time one of his favourite songs would come on, Lassiter would reach out and switch it to something Juliet had chosen in the hopes it would calm her somewhat. He kept doing that until coasting to a stop outside her house.

When he exited the car, he realised she hadn’t gotten out yet. So he opened her door and offered his hand without a word.

She looked up from the floor of the car, blinking at him with red-rimmed eyes for a moment. Then she unfastened her seat belt and took his hand, allowing him to lead her inside.

Lassiter had been to Juliet’s house a few times; once on business, when someone had broken in and he had come over with the rest of the police called in. The other times had been less professional; a few times he had joined her there to eat something during their lunch break, when neither of them felt much like going out to a restaurant. One time he had given her a ride home when her car broke down. So he knew where most of the important things were - light switches, extra blankets, food, and other such things.

For the first time since rescuing Juliet, Lassiter switched on his phone to check the time. 10am. How long had it been since he ate? Or since Juliet had eaten, for that matter?

He glanced over at her. She was sitting on the sofa, hands folded in her lap, eyes downcast. He decided to leave her alone for a bit and make something for breakfast, just in case she might want to eat something.

A pot of oatmeal and some toast later, he took a tray over to the sofa and sat down beside her. “Hey. Hungry?”

Juliet looked up at him, then down at the bowls of oatmeal and plate stacked with toast. She managed a small smile and reached out, taking one of the bowls and a spoon. 

They ate in silence, and Lassiter wondered if he should turn the television on. Did that help other people relax, or was he the only one who crashed on the sofa after a taxing night and mindlessly watched television for hours?

He didn’t have to say anything. Once Juliet finished her breakfast, she stood up. “You can go home now. I’m good.”

Lassiter frowned. Part of him wanted to leave her be, since that was what she seemed to want… but he couldn’t. Not in good conscience, and not without worrying for the rest of the day. “No. If you want, I can go hole up in the office, or stay in the kitchen. But I’m not leaving you alone today, O’Hara.” 

She laughed, but in a strained sort of way; the laugh someone gives when they’re trying to pretend everything is okay. “I’m going to be fine, Carlton. You should go get some rest.”

“I can rest here,” he replied. “Seriously, O’Hara, I’m not leaving.”

There was a beat of silence, and then she sighed with a small smile. It was a fond sort of smile, tinged with weariness. “Okay. Fine. You can have free reign of the house if you want it; I’m going to my room for a nap.”

Lassiter nodded. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

When she disappeared into her bedroom, Lassiter left the sofa and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do afterwards; usually, he would do extra work, but all of the case files and police reports he needed to review were either still at the police department or at his house.

 

Eventually, he settled down onto the sofa with a book - one of Juliet’s, from her bookshelf. _The Fellowship of the Ring_ , by J.R.R. Tolkien. It wasn’t something he normally read; he preferred crime and war novels and occasionally science-fiction. But it wasn’t all that bad.

Some time later - at least an hour and a half later, in fact - a car’s engine backfired outside as it sped down the road. Lassiter flinched automatically, the loud noise reminding him of a gunshot and sending him into danger neutralization mode. 

Then he heard a crash from Juliet’s bedroom, and leapt from the sofa, tossing the book down and running in that direction. “O’Hara!”

He burst in and at first didn’t see her. A lamp had fallen to the floor; it wasn’t broken, but the shade was bent. He scanned the room, searching for his friend. The window was shut, surely no one had come in and snatched her away.

Then he spotted her, in a corner between the bed and the nightstand. Lassiter knelt down in front of her. “Hey. It was just a car, it’s okay.”

“I know.” She pushed his hand away and stood up, drawing in a deep breath and brushing herself off. “It just… startled me.”

Lassiter nodded. “Yeah, startled me too.” He looked around the room for a moment, then crouched down to pick up the lamp and place it back on the bedside table. “Hey, you still have that chessboard, right? Why don’t we play a game or two?”

“No, I’m going to rest a bit more,” Juliet said. She glanced up at him and offered a slightly sheepish smile. “Thanks for coming to check on me.”

“Of course.” He returned the smile without thinking. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

 

Around noon, Lassiter decided he couldn’t sit still any longer and stood up, setting aside his book. He hadn’t heard anything from Juliet’s room since the incident before, and hoped she had managed to get some rest.

His stomach growled, and he decided that lunch was in order. He would make enough for both himself and Juliet, and just save whatever wasn’t eaten. 

Looking around at the cupboards and inside the refrigerator, Lassiter tried to decide what would be simple to make. He could cook pretty damn well - he saw no reason to do or learn things halfway, and cooking was no different - but at the moment, he was too worn out from everything that had happened. 

In the end, he decided that grilled peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches with ginger ale on the side were more than good for lunch and set to work. The act of making the food helped calm his nerves.

Stacking them onto a plate which he then placed on a tray, Lassiter set two cans of ginger ale on it as well before making his way back to Juliet’s room. Balancing the tray on one hand for a moment, he gently rapped on the door. “O’Hara?” He kept his voice quiet, just in case she was sleeping.

“Carlton? Come on in, it’s fine.” Her voice sounded drowsy, but awake.

He opened the door, still balancing the tray, and stepped inside. She was lying on top of the covers of the bed; she had switched out her clothing from the night before for a t-shirt and jeans. She blinked at him. “What’s that?”

“Lunch.” He hooked his ankle around the leg of a chair in the corner and dragged it over to the side of the bed, sitting down. He balanced the tray on his lap and placed the cans of ginger ale on the nightstand. 

Juliet sat up, leaning against the headboard of the bed. Lassiter reached out to hand her the tray, which she accepted and set on her lap. “Grilled PB&J?” She looked up at him.

When he saw her smile a genuine smile, relief washed over him; in that moment, he knew she was going to be okay. “Yeah, well.” He scratched at the back of his neck for a moment. “I used to make those all the time as a kid for me and my siblings. It’s easy to make, and I figured since you had the peanut butter and jelly that you liked it well enough.”

“I do.” She took one of the plates. “There is no way I’m eating two plates of them though. I think you forgot to take yours.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He took the plate from her, resting it on his knee while he opened one of the cans of ginger ale.

A few minutes of silent eating later, Juliet laughed quietly. “You know, I don’t think I’ve eaten lunch in bed like this since I was a kid. I was sick with the flu, I think. Mom brought me lunch and ginger ale; it’s what she always gave us kids to drink when we were sick. Something about health benefits, I don’t know.”

Lassiter listened quietly, nodding. “I think it’s probably been about that long since I had lunch in bed either. Though, I wasn’t sick. I’d been in a fight and ended up with a concussion.” 

Juliet raised her eyebrows. “Well, that’s a lot more interesting than the flu.” She took a sip of her drink. “What in the world happened?”

“Nothing of importance. Someone was harassing my sister and I got angry,” Lassiter replied. “I wasn’t exactly too concerned about laws and the correct methods of justice back then. All I knew was someone hurt her and I wanted to show them they couldn’t. And I did. They just managed to get in a few lucky shots.” He picked up a second sandwich and took a bite.

“Somehow that doesn’t sound too unbelievable,” Juliet remarked.

“What, you think I have that much of an anger problem?” Lassiter retorted with an offended expression, though his voice was light. 

“No. I think you’re that protective.” 

Lassiter glanced at her just in time to see her look away. Before he could say anything, she had started the conversation again, switching the subject to discuss her favourite lunch as a kid - tomato soup and sandwiches.

After they finished lunch, Lassiter took the dishes back to the kitchen to clean up. When he turned around, he was surprised to see Juliet on the sofa. “You’re done resting?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” she replied, reaching up and brushing her hair out of her face. “Do you still want to play that chess game?”

“Sure.” Lassiter took the rubber gloves off and set them aside. “Where’s the chessboard? Get ready to lose.” He flashed her a grin.

“I think you mean _you_ need to get ready to lose,” Juliet responded. “You’ve never beaten me in chess once. And it’s on the bookshelf in the office. I’ll get it.” She walked in the direction of the office, returning a few minutes later with a box in hand.

As was to be expected, Lassiter did indeed lose - the first two games. Eventually, he managed to beat her. By the time they finished playing, they had tied. 

“If we count the games I’ve won in the past, I’m still the champion,” Juliet pointed out, a good-natured smirk playing across her face.

“Normally I’d argue, but I don’t think that’s wise in this case,” Lassiter remarked, taking his phone from his pocket. “All right. It’s…” He checked the time. “Four o’clock. Do you want dinner?”

“Sure. I can make it myself though, it’s no trouble,” Juliet said, rising to her feet.

“Ah, c’mon,” Lassiter said. “Why don’t we order pizza and have it delivered?”

Juliet laughed. “I don’t usually do that.” 

“Yeah, well, me neither, but this once isn’t going to hurt anything.” Lassiter searched for the phone number of the nearest pizza place. “What do you want? I don’t really have a preference.”

Juliet ran a hand through her hair. “A margherita pizza or seafood pizza both sound good…” 

“Both then. Whatever’s left can be saved.” Lassiter dialed the number, noticing that Juliet was about to say something. “And I’m buying.”

She frowned at him. “How did you know I was going to say that I’d pay for them?”

“Maybe Spencer’s not the only psychic around here,” Lassiter joked. He started to say that he knew Juliet well enough by now to know when she was about to say something like that, but then the pizza place answered. “Yes, hello? I’d like to order a couple of pizzas…”

 

A few hours later, the two of them were done with dinner. Juliet kept shooting glances toward the darkened windows, and Lassiter could guess why.

“So. What movies do you keep around here, O’Hara?” Lassiter asked, crouching down beside the television and scanning a nearby bookshelf, the bottom shelf of which housed several dozen DVD cases. 

“Hmm? Oh. I don’t know, a lot of stuff.” She sounded distracted. “Fantasy, some documentaries. Chick flicks, Disney films, a few spy movies…” 

Lassiter’s first reaction was to go for one of the spy films. Nothing else really caught his eye. But then again… maybe something a little less intense and a little less violent would be the best bet.

He took a DVD case that looked much safer from the shelf and put the DVD in, settling onto the sofa. 

“This is _Enchanted_.” Juliet sounded surprised.

“Yeah.” Lassiter surveyed the main menu screen, not entirely sure what to think. It looked… very fluffy. And it definitely seemed like it would be free from much violence or suspenseful moments, which was what he had been going for.

“This is a good movie, but…” She paused. “It doesn’t really seem like something you’d be interested in. Carlton, you don’t have to watch it, we can watch something else if you want.” 

“Nah.” He pressed ‘play’, determined to follow through with his decision to keep Juliet as far from stressed as possible. “I’ve never seen it before. Might as well give it a try.” 

She made an uncertain noise, but then the movie started and she went quiet. Lassiter watched it for a while, not really finding it interesting, but not finding it terrible either. He related somewhat to the character named Robert - who seemed just as confused by all the singing and the talk of princesses and magic as Lassiter felt he himself would be.

The ending was predictable - he had known it would be - but not really unsatisfying. A glance at his watch told him that it was nearly 8:30. 

When he turned to speak to Juliet, he saw that she had slumped sideways, eyes shut. “O’Hara?” He kept his voice quiet. She didn’t respond.

Glad that she had fallen asleep, Lassiter carefully rose to his feet, taking great care not to jostle her. He stretched, rolling his shoulders to work the knots out of his back, and then started toward the front door.

“Carlton?” A sleepy mumble. 

Lassiter stopped in his tracks and turned around again. Juliet was sitting up, blinking rapidly with her hair falling across her face. “Yeah?”

She looked at him, and her expression was more vulnerable in her drowsy state than it had been all day. “Stay with me. Please?”

Lassiter hesitated. She was still scared - it didn’t take a genius to see that - but he wasn’t sure whether he should stay. It wasn’t generally considered professional for a detective to spend the night at partner’s house, especially not when his partner was a woman. 

She could see his hesitation. “Carlton… please? I don’t want… I’m just worried that…” 

That Yin would come back. And why wouldn’t she be worried? They had never caught him and she knew that.

Professional or not, Lassiter couldn’t leave her alone. Not when she was so frightened.

“All right.” He walked back over to the sofa and sat down. Another glance at Juliet brought to his attention that she was trembling slightly. “Oh. Hey, hey. Shhh.” He reached over and put an arm around her shoulder before he could think too much about it. “You’re safe. I’m not going to let anybody hurt you, I promise.”

They’d be dead before they could even try.

She hid her face in his shoulder, still trembling slightly. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen her this upset, and who could be surprised? A near-death experience was enough to take a toll on even the boldest person.

He kept his arm around her, occasionally murmuring reassurances as best he knew how. Once she had calmed a little, he didn’t move away, but he did ask quietly, “Do you want me to call Spencer, see if he wants to stay with you?”

It normally would be a strange question; but the self-proclaimed psychic very clearly liked Juliet, and sometimes Lassiter wondered if she liked him too. If she did, he was pretty sure she would want him here with her.

Instead, he heard Juliet make a slightly confused sound, head still resting against his shoulder just above his heart. “No.”

Lassiter blinked. “Why not?” 

He regretted asking as soon as the words escaped his lips; this was not a time to be asking meaningless questions. That was the last thing she needed. But to his surprise, she answered him. Her words were rambling; she was clearly half-asleep again and not quite conscious enough to form coherent sentences, but her sentiments were clear.

“‘cause I’d rather you stay instead… you smell safe.” 

“What?” Lassiter’s eyebrows arched and he glanced down at the top of her head. 

“Like cologne, and leather, and that peppermint gum you’re always chewing, and just you… like safety. And your heartbeat is steady. I dunno… makes me feel safe… please stay with me.”

“Okay, okay.” He patted her shoulder with a small level of awkwardness, keeping his arm around her. “I’ll stay. You just go to sleep now. Get some rest.” 

A few minutes later, he could feel her breathing steady out. He used his free hand to shut the television off, then reached toward the lamp. He could just barely shut it off with his fingertips, if he avoided moving too far and waking Juliet up.

The room fell into darkness, silent except for the sound of breathing. Lassiter let himself relax, getting as comfortable as he could while still keeping his arm around Juliet. 

As he himself drifted off, Lassiter made a promise to himself - that he would do a better job of protecting his partner.

There would never be a repeat of this. She would never end up in life-threatening danger - alone - again. At least, not while Lassiter was alive to stop it.

If that meant putting his own life on the line, then so be it.

All he knew was that he couldn’t bear to see Juliet so frightened and so vulnerable again, and that he would keep her safe to the best of his ability.

He had caught a glimpse of what life might be like without her there, and he had no desire for life to ever be that cold or devoid of her brightness - her presence - ever again.


End file.
